A brief love affair

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I Only Love You When I’m Drunk

Personally, sometimes, I like being drunk. Especially when the odds aren’t my favor amd everyday is a bad day and I just want to get numb and forget about things a bit. I read it somewhere that getting drunk is like borrowing happiness from tomorrow. So yes, I like the idea of that.

Being drunk is somehow liberating because you tend to let go. You wouldn’t care what anybody else is thinking about you, whether you do splits or lay on the floor like a dead hippo. You wouldn’t care because they don’t. Your valid and most of the time acceptable excuse is that you’re drunk. You are not rational. You don’t think straight when you’re drunk. So they kind of forgive you for that.

And then you laugh so hard and you don’t even know what you’re laughing about anymore.

You’re happy and numb at the same time. You forget things that you want to forget. Or you remember them but it doesn’t hurt anymore.

And then when the night is over, you slowly sober up once again and reality will come falling back on you like a large block of cement. And you’ll pay for the happiness the you borrowed by the hang over, headaches, uneasiness of yor stomach and lack of sleep.

But you would do it again. Why? Because you felt happy. Even for a moment. Even for a night. And a night or moment of happiness is better than none.

I’m not encouraging anyone to get drunk and be an alcoholic. I’m just imparting my feeelings and thoughts every time I drink with my friends. And it’s not even a frequent thing. Once a month or so.